There Are No Slaves In America.... - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

ricky is pleasing the master of the house.
early to bed early to rise
makes a list of what to bring to the beach
Saturday morning,

a white bench, a sharp bolo (for cutting the grass)
a bowl of salad, a big storage for clean drinking water
a big blue beach towel, six red painted chairs,
a kettle of Japanese rice,
ten live fish, my favorite dog is already at the back of
the pick up,
the hammock from Cambodia, life jackets for six,
dates, and ten bottles of coca-cola and a big ice bucket,

no beer this time no cigarettes,

'everything is ready, Sir'

She writes an email from the coast of Costa Rica,

' dear Uncle,

I am feeling lonely here. I miss Ricky and the beach.



well, it is a Saturday and i am exclaiming to the door and

' What a life! '

and the United States of America can wait.

There are no slaves.

Topic(s) of this poem: life

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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 13, 2015

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